


Boys Don't Cry

by voodoo_smile



Category: Indie Music RPF, Music RPF, Pop Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rock Music RPF, The Cure (Band), music and bands
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Drunk Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanfiction, Gratuitous Smut, Implied Relationships, M/M, Male Slash, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, Smut, The Cure, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoo_smile/pseuds/voodoo_smile
Summary: Setting: Robert/Simon/A stranger. Severin's flat. 1979.Disclaimer: I do not own The Cure. Everything described in this story is fictional.**Regretfully, Robert's experience that night wasn't quite what he thought it would be...**





	

Simon's eyes were dark, shining and never left Robert's as he took another sip from his bottle of beer.  
  
“Robert, maybe you shouldn't.”  
  
“Huh?” Robert's drunken smile spread across his face as he tilted his head towards Simon, barely able to hear his words over the loud music that blared from the speakers and vibrated obnoxiously through every room in Severin’s flat, “Shouldn't what?” Robert finally asked.  
  
“I-I think maybe you shouldn't take it.” Simon took another long swig from the bottle and shifted his gaze to his feet, his legs now stretched out in front of him.  
  
Robert shifted closer and turned his head slightly to watch him, laughing as he nuzzled his face into Simon's hair.  
  
“I'm serious, Robert.” And Simon flinched as Robert's lips made contact with his ear, “What-what are you—?” He didn't move away.  
  
Robert breathed in once again and closed his eyes. He had always loved how Simon smelled and would have never dreamed of mentioning that fact to him, until now.  
  
“Mmm…” Robert hummed, slurring into Simon's ear, “Y-you smell so nice.”  
  
“Stop,” Simon tried not to grin. He was almost blushing at Robert's statement and tried to shift away, but there was no place else for him to go. They were trapped in the crowded room, smashed up against each other on the small couch as party goers continued to pile in, almost tripping over their feet as they brushed past the two of them huddled together.  
  
As Simon's concerned plea had finally registered in Robert's distracted, drunken mind, Robert had to laugh again at his friend's foolishness. He had always shrugged off Simon's own rule to no more than two substances at a time within an evening and couldn't understand why he continued in trying to squash any potential for a good time. Robert had always been willing to try more, especially on that particular night out; the food, drink and drugs were all compliments of Steven, so there was no question that Robert would indulge in everything he could get his hands on in that flat. An evening of excess with his best friend sitting beside him—it was perfect.  
  
Not even a moment later, and a strange pair of hands came down unexpectedly on Robert's shoulders from behind, causing him to jerk his head back onto the cushions. Those hands proceeded to move over his shoulders, almost massaging and Robert closed his eyes in drunken contentment as Simon suspiciously eyed the figure standing behind them.  
  
The older man slowly leaned down, his mouth hovering over Robert's ear.

“I've got what you want.”  
  
Robert's eyes opened slowly only to find the man looking down, meeting his gaze. His hand slid up Robert's neck and slowly through his hair as Robert grinned and shrugged at the near tickling sensation the man's fingers had caused. A small breathless laugh escaped Robert's throat as he felt those fingers move again, caressing his jaw as the man moved down close only inches away and his breath blew onto Robert's face as he spoke.  
  
“I’ll be in the last room… down the hall.” He whispered and his hands were off him in an instant and he retreated back into the crowd.  
  
Robert's head still resting on the cushions slowly turned towards Simon's just as Simon quickly turned away in the opposite direction and Simon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.  
  
“Um,” Simon kept his gaze fixed across the room, “think I'm going to go.” He mumbled those words so low and quiet Robert could barely hear what was said over the clamoring noise, but could clearly see the disappointment on Simon's face.  
  
“No, don't.” Robert raised his head and as he put his hand on Simon's arm, he recoiled and Robert's eyes widened at that unexpected movement. Simon never reacted to Robert's touch in that way before. In fact, he usually never protested—not seriously, anyway—when Robert touched him, and he delighted in watching Simon's reaction when his fingers would ‘accidentally’ brush against his arm. Or, when Robert had even been so bold as to place his hand on Simon's thigh once or twice, wrenching what Robert thought was a small sound of surprise from Simon's throat. He had to admit that his heart would flutter when he saw that face begin to redden and a light sheen of perspiration coat his brow at that contact. He never suspected that Simon seemed to mind—until now.  
  
“Simon?” Robert asked, but there was no response. He was so drunk and confused he hadn't a clue as to why it suddenly seemed as if Simon was pouting.

“Please stay. I-I don’t…” Robert was begging him now, and his inebriated state made his floundering sound even more desperate.

He hated the sound of his own voice just then, but he couldn't let him leave. Robert couldn't enjoy this perfect night without him. “I’ll be right back. Jus-just going down the hall.” He licked his lips and took in a breath, adding, “You can join me, you know.”  
  
Simon scowled and simply glared at his feet, “Gotta take a piss.” He put his beer down on the table beside them and was out of his seat before Robert could unsteadily struggle his way up and out of the sagging couch.  
  
***      ***      ***  
  
It was only a few minutes after he placed the small square of paper on his tongue that the effects of the acid began to wash over his body and mind. After all the beer and whiskey he had ingested earlier and despite the darkness of the dimly lit bedroom, Robert’s vision was surprisingly bright and sharp, his head now buzzing with every sound as he sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
It was nearly a perfect evening, except it was missing one important element.  
  
Robert rose from the bed slowly as the older man slid into his vacated spot on the mattress and passed the joint, holding it in front of Robert.  
  
“Hey,” He said moving it beneath Robert’s nose, rousing him from his trance as Robert’s heavy lidded eyes followed it.  
  
“Ha!” Robert grinned as his hand unsteadily reached up to take it, missing its target on the first try until finally grasping it with his fingers. He inhaled deeply twice, holding in each hit for as long as possible before blowing out what was left; and a thin plume of smoke exited his mouth. His body began to drift backwards and he quickly fumbled, grabbing the edge of the dresser and he felt the man’s hand pushing him, helping him to remain upright as he laughed.  
  
“Whoa…” The man laughed at Robert, “You-you alright?” And his hand moved over to Robert’s arm, his palm trailing up to his shoulder.  
  
“Mmm-hmm.” Robert hummed and leaned into the man’s grip. He had to find Simon, “Gotta—I—I’ll be right back.” He mumbled, but instead of stepping forward, he ended up plopping down on the mattress next to the stranger.  
  
“Shit.” Robert grinned and laughed again; shaking his head, “Fuck… I’m…”  
  
“You’ll be fine, you know.” The stranger moved close, Robert could feel the comforting heat of his body and his arm reached around Robert’s back. His hand slid up around his shoulder and held him still on the bed while his other hand came around to gently grip Robert’s face, slowly turning it towards him as he smiled.  
  
Robert’s eyes, though glazed and red peered at the man as he moved in closer, his breath warm and moist as it blew into Robert's face and he whispered calmly, “Just relax…”  
  
His voice echoed in Robert’s head and his vision was now turning grainy and with each image he laid his eyes upon bursts of color would trail behind as those shapes moved and changed.  
  
The older man’s hand moved to brush away the hair that had fallen into Robert’s eyes, and those same trails had followed his movement. Robert looked up in amusement at what he saw and inhaled deeply in an effort to steady his body, a small grin spreading across his face.  
  
There was a sudden warm, yet familiar sensation of what he thought were firm lips on his own, taking him by surprise and he harshly exhaled into the man’s mouth laughing, his limp body falling back onto the bed.  
  
“I-I…” Robert sputtered almost gleefully as the man hovered over his body on his elbow, his other hand landing on Robert’s side, inching slowly under his t-shirt, gently rubbing his smooth skin underneath.  
  
“Shh… Such a pretty thing, you are…” And the man kissed him again, his mouth opening and tongue prodding until Robert had no choice but to open his own mouth at that insistence. It was as if he was completely detached and had no control over his own reactions, his own body. Their tongues met, sliding together as the man moaned loudly, his hand moving up to Robert’s face, gliding over his cheek and then gripping firmly, squeezing, as his thumb ran over Robert’s bottom lip. It was as if he wanted to devour him. Robert couldn't breathe and he struggled for air, wriggling out from under him.  
  
The man was breathless as well, “Wait—what…?” He protested, eyes following Robert as he teetered, making a conscious effort to balance himself on the mattress.  
  
“I need to—from…” Robert simply could not say it, “Fuck!” He knew what he wanted, but simply could not articulate it, “a piss…” Was all he could finally manage to squeak out and stumbled out of the room.  
  
He had no idea how long it had taken him to make it to the toilet and then on into the front room of Severin’s flat to search for Simon, it could have been a few minutes or a few hours as he quickly became unusually distracted and fascinated by the most mundane objects and sounds during his journey through each room along the way.  
  
He followed the loudness of the music until it led him to where he was certain the two of them had last sat, talking and drinking. He peered around the corner and as his gaze swept over the room, a feeling of desperation began to rise as he struggled to make out Simon’s familiar presence, until finally in his vision-impaired, drug-addled state, his eyes managed to settle on Simon’s shape at last; sitting on that same couch, his body limp and his head slumped down into his chest.  
  
***      ***      ***  
  
The last of the cocaine was gone and Simon swatted at Robert’s hand holding the joint as he slid up onto the pillows against the headboard, his eyes remained closed.  
  
“No,” Simon muttered, “No more…” He whispered weakly.  
  
“Simon, what-what's wrong?” Robert moved in next to him, his face nuzzling his neck on the bed and Simon’s hand came up, now swatting Robert away as well.  
  
“No.” Simon whispered again, but Robert only gripped tighter, his hand reaching around his waist as Robert’s lips found his neck and he lingered there for a moment, savoring his taste, his smell. But Simon turned his head away, despite his tremble as Robert's lips touched his skin.  
  
“Stop…” And Simon took a deep, labored breath, almost sobbing as he tried to straighten himself up on the bed to leave, but it was futile. Strangely, he simply could not move from where he sat, slouching down further and further on the mattress.  
  
“You don't... understand.” Simon fought against his drugged, muddled, woozy mind and he knew he would not be able to stop from saying those words. “ I-I love—” And was suddenly cut off by a loud bang of something breaking, falling from behind them and moments later another sound, followed by a creak and the mattress yielding to a body as Robert felt himself being slowly turned in the other direction, away from Simon.  
  
Warm, wet lips found his again and that vaguely familiar tongue invaded his mouth again, pulling and prodding. The smacking sounds of their kisses strangely amplified in Robert's head and the feeling of those kisses burned his lips, tingling and he immediately thought of Simon and how his lips would feel against his own, what he would taste like... and he reached out for him, finding his leg, but there was no reaction, no movement. Robert tried turning, but his own drugged stupor and the weight of the older man's body nearly immobilized him. It was no use and the now overwhelming feeling of being crushed down into the mattress even further caused Robert to gasp into the stranger’s mouth and much to Robert’s surprise, his opposing squirming and breathy reaction were sorely misinterpreted and long fingers immediately found their way under his shirt, creeping up to his chest, then back down again past the waistband of his jeans, settling firmly on his cock.  
  
“Ohh…” Robert sighed and flinched as the man’s hand squeezed him through his pants and Robert could feel the stranger’s lips on his face once again.  
  
The man’s voice trembled as his hand undid Robert’s button and began to yank the zipper down, “So fucking gorgeous…” and he slammed his lips down onto Roberts again, his body sliding slightly to the side as his hand slid swiftly inside Robert's pants, pulling his shorts down, “I just know your cock is too.”  
  
“Oh… G—God...” Robert groaned. Those kisses, those touches; he’d never felt anything quite like it in his hypersensitive state. So many sensations at once… but something about all of it just wasn't quite right. His muddled mind was becoming overwrought with confusion and he had no idea how to react to what was now happening, what he thought he would enjoy.  
  
Robert suddenly felt that strange hand wrapping around his now hard cock, sliding up and back and the stranger moaned into Robert's ear, mumbling expletives as he roughly began to jerk him off, grinding his erection into Robert, almost smothering him as he stroked.  
  
Robert turned his head to the side to finally try and speak; feeling as if every movement he made with his mouth took an eternity. He was desperately trying to form words, but could only emit inaudible sounds. He was trapped and his mind quickly filled with a crippling dread. This wasn’t what he wanted.  
  
***      ***      ***  
  
The music continued to drift and swirl throughout the room sounding distorted and broken in Robert’s head. He was unaware of how much time had actually passed, not remembering how or why he was now rolled over onto his stomach and he lifted his head up from the mattress and soon regretted his rash decision as a dizzying white light and abstract shapes blurred and focused before his eyes.  
  
A sudden chill of cold air met his bare skin and he soon realized his shirt was pulled up and his pants and shorts were gone.  
  
“Simon?” Robert finally breathed as a pair of hands began to rub his back, moving down to fondle his ass and as his gaze wandered over the bed, his eyes landing on the semi-unconscious body across from him and it was then that Robert realized it wasn’t Simon’s touch at all.  
  
Bits of mumbled words and eventually, a small hopeless sound had emitted from Simon’s mouth as he listlessly reacted to his name. He remained unmoving, almost paralyzed with eyes half closed, until finally his hand came up to shut out what was unfolding before him as he turned his head away.  
  
Roberts heart sank and within an instant he felt himself helplessly being dragged back by his legs, his hips being lifted simultaneously and he felt a sharp stinging pain swell into a ripping, agonizing throb as the stranger held onto Robert’s hips and pushed in quickly, shoving his cock into Robert hard, almost sending him falling forward onto the bed. All Robert could hear was what he thought was a scream and the pounding of his pulse, his own breath in his ears and his eyes flew open at the assault, his vision hazy but able to make out Simon’s shape still on the bed.  
  
“Sim—!” Robert tried to call out, but the man pulled out quickly and thrust in deep again with a grunt, holding Robert upright as he began to move.  
  
“Oh… Oh, fucking Christ…” The man mumbled. His hands squeezing Robert’s hips and his ass as his thrusts grew harder, their bodies slamming as Robert’s body jerked with each thrust as he fucked him from behind.  
  
“No!” Robert groaned, “Fuck. Ohh…!” He whimpered out loud at the pain as the man continued to pound into him. His whimper quickly turning into a long sob, the constant, acute pain unlike anything he had felt before, but the figure behind Robert was unrelenting and continued his assault, grunting and moaning with each forceful thrust, quickly leaning in on top of Robert’s body as Robert's anguished sobs rang out within the dark, stuffy room.  
  
The man's hot breath blew into his ear as he panted, “Shh…No…” His hand reaching around the grip Robert’s cock, “No...” His whisper so low and obscene, “Boys don’t cry…” and began to stroke, “Mmm... Suck his cock for me.” And he plunged into Robert, pushing him up further towards Simon.  
  
Robert felt as if he would vomit at the sound of that voice—those words. He wouldn't, though his cock twitched at the very thought of touching Simon, sucking him... No! It was too much and his vision began to cloud, his body limp and drooping as the man’s grip continued to hold him and it was then that Robert suddenly heard a far away sound drift into his ears, bringing him back to the present. It was that familiar voice across from him just barely rising to a mumble, “N-no... Robert.” Simon kept his head turned away and his eyes shut tightly.  
  
Robert couldn’t speak as he sobbed through each agonizing movement, utterly incapable of escaping from the man’s grasp around his erection. The pain still evident as the man pounded into him harder and faster causing the bed to shake, his loud moans drowning out Robert’s audible sobs. But however much he wept, his cock was still hard, still being tugged and stroked by that strange hand and sadly, he would be useless to stop what he knew was inevitable.  
  
Robert groaned, his hand clumsily reaching out for Simon's leg, toppling over, landing almost on top of him. It was a struggle to lift his head and finally his eyes met his friend's for one desperate moment, almost pleading, wishing he could take all of this back, but knew it was too late as Simon's expression of grief was slowly replaced by a cold indifference to the sordid display he was forced to witness beside him. His eyes remained open but were now empty; his groggy stare purposely focused on the wall in front of him.  
  
“No!” Robert's gasp was one of utter regret at that expression and even more regret at feeling that familiar heat swelling throughout his body, all the while thinking of Simon, wishing it was him that was touching him, fucking him… and it was then that his cock pulsed as the last dreaded stroke sent him over and he cried out shamefully and wordlessly in sorrow. His forehead resting on Simon's arm, pressing into his warmth, his body finally convulsing as his climax washed over him, ejaculating into the stranger’s hand, onto the bed beneath his body and onto Simon's arm as the man clutched Robert’s hips, grunting one last time until he exploded.  
  
He moaned and came hard into Robert, the man’s body landing on top of him, releasing inside of Robert again and again. “Shit…!” The stranger whispered breathlessly, and Robert cringed at that voice. The man finally slowed his movement then stopped, and when that strange hand reached up to touch Robert's hair, Robert recoiled at that touch, wishing he could crawl away as his stomach churned, a wounded sound leaving his throat as the stranger pulled out quickly.  
  
***      ***      ***  
  
Robert finally came to and his head pulsed with a sharp knife-like pain as he slowly cracked his eyes open. The loud music had stopped and an odd, empty silence hung in the air as Robert glanced around the room, finally remembering just where he ended up—where _they_ ended up. He shifted, still naked and a sudden pain shot through his lower body, bringing back a vague, despicable memory. It wasn't meant to happen like this. It wasn't supposed to be this way.  
  
Robert's eyes clenched shut and a long mournful moan of regret was all he could manage as he suddenly felt the room begin to spin out of control. He tried propping himself up, only to topple back onto the mattress. It was no use and he suddenly realized everyone had gone and the unthinkable had happened; _Simon_ had gone—had simply left him behind. It was done, and Robert sobbed out loud shamefully into the darkness alone.


End file.
